


Rumour Has It

by KarmaMojo (SmoothMojo)



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:33:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23682424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmoothMojo/pseuds/KarmaMojo
Summary: “Yennefer of Vengerberg,” he says, raising his glass, and he’s slurring his voice a little bit, and how much has he had to drink already? “You’re one of my opening acts this weekend.”Too much. Clearly too much.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Rumour Has It

He’s done with sound check, his guitar still safely tucked away in the corner of his wardrobe instead of leaving it behind the stage like that one time in Berlin where someone sneaked up and it was gone when his name was announced. It’s not pure, novel stage fright like he used to get when he started making music for a living. Or before that even, playing at children’s birthday parties or wherever people would listen. He’s right where he should be, so close to the end of his tour and it’s hard to believe the months of work that turned his life into a whirlwind of new faces and cities are about to be over. Maybe it’s the opposite of stage fright, where he’s afraid of going back to working on his own instead of playing in front of a sold out house every night. His house is going to feel way too big and empty when he gets there.

It ends up being one of his favourite concerts so far, one where his fans seem to sing along the entire time and he’s not sure what he’s been telling them into a microphone he clutches in sweaty hands all night but some magazine will probably write all about it during the next week. Maybe he’ll actually pick one up instead of sternly avoiding all of their headlines. 

He’s still on a high back in his wardrobe and he knows most of the crew are too, and the little hole-in-the-wall bar at the edge of town will likely be their destination for the evening to simmer down. 

-

It’s taken Jaskier a while to get used to not being able to go anywhere without being recognized. He’d thought it’d be fun, initially, being asked for autographs and showered with attention wherever he goes. And it is, but he’s missing being able to slip into a bar and chatting someone up, meeting someone new that doesn’t possibly like him for the small fortune he’s built, without his manager calling him the next day to yell at him. 

Tonight is an illusion of that; the guests in the bar checked for ID and a little sign outside claiming the party is private. 

He recognizes her pushing her way through the crowd in the bar, a half-empty beer bottle in hand, and the first thing he notices is that she’s rather...short. A giggle escapes him at the thought, because he’s always imagined her as this imposing, scary figure, and she just reaches his shoulder in rather high-heeled boots. She nods at him slightly as she walks past like she barely recognizes him and Jaskier feels a bit insulted. 

“Yennefer of Vengerberg,” he says, raising his glass, and he’s slurring his voice a little bit, and how much has he had to drink already? “You’re one of my opening acts this weekend.” 

Too much. Clearly too much. Because she turns on her heel and is right in front of him within seconds. 

“I’m not your opening act. I’m just up before you.” So she recognized him and chose not to acknowledge him. Smooth. Her eyes stare up at him and despite the dim light he can see they’re a shade of blue and the trick that makes them look so violet most of the time is something he’ll have to ask her about when she’s not glaring at him like she’s about to bite him.

“Well, I am the grand finale.” 

He’s made Yennefer of Vengerberg groan with that comment, and not in the good way. She rolls her eyes and adjusts her cloak. He’d like to compliment her on wearing that, because not a lot of people could pull off wearing an actual cloak, with a hood attached to it no less, but now might not be the best time. She saunters back towards a tall guy Jaskier doesn’t recognize because he’d definitely remember him. It surprises him though, when she tugs at the guy’s shirt sleeve in a familiar fashion to beckon him to follow and he rests the palm of his hand on her back, because he’s sure she’s supposed to have a thing with that agent lady who manages a club downtown. Not that he reads the magazines.

She doesn’t seem very nice, but he does like her music, much darker than his and a little uncharacteristic for a band that’s basically only her and two other girls. He knows they get a little ridicule for it, but they’re still fairly popular. She writes most of their songs, he’s read that much, and he’d kind of hoped to learn more about the process behind it, if it was like his. But instead, he’s jotting down some notes on raven hair and black satin in his book, the one not for sharing that he keeps in the inside pocket of his bright red jacket. 

-

Jaskier finds out later that the other members of her group are a lot chattier and he barely has any choice in the matter when Sabrina and Triss drag him into one of back rooms with the dark-cushioned walls. He was very happy chatting up the background singers of what's-his-face, thank you very much. But this is all right, too. 

The room is even darker than the rest of the bar, lined with two pillowed couches and a long table in the middle. It’s covered with glasses and he can make out the startling hair colour of that tall guy who’d been clutching at Yennefer’s back earlier in the corner. He’s staring over Jaskier’s shoulder at Sabrina, who cheerfully puts a menu in his hand and then nudges him towards the right couch. 

His eyes finally adjust when he sits down, but they don’t really need to because he catches the perfume or shampoo or whatever it is that Yennefer of Vengerberg uses. 

“You know Sabrina, you can’t just abduct people to join your team if you’re behind,” she says, pulling up her leg and resting her chin on her knee.

“What do you want to sing?” Sabrina interrupts, sternly ignoring her bandmate. “Although I just did ‘Jolene’, and that will be hard to beat.”

“Oh, please,” groans Triss from the other side of the table.

“It’s not like Geralt will sing,” Sabrina hisses back at her. 

Jaskier finally realizes the menu doesn't have drinks, even though he could go for another, but the grubby laminated paper lists the songs the karaoke room has to offer. Almost better than drinks, anyway. He’s good at this. And it’s nice, nobody in the room caring much about who he is. 

“Ooh, I’ll do ‘Valerie’.” He looks up, but the pretty blonde is still bickering with Yennefer in whispering voices. The guy he figures is Geralt shrugs at him helplessly and pushes the remote for the room over to him. 

Sure, he can handle this. And Jaskier is really good at it, at being a one-man show. The bickering finally stops, Geralt lets out a relieved grunt, and he thinks Sabrina might end up sticking a dollar into the waistband of his pants if he goes on after this song. 

Yennefer picks “All Along The Watchtower” and he hasn’t thought about what it would sound like, the Hendrix version with her feminine, raspy voice but it’s his favourite thing he’s heard tonight, besides himself, and it’s over way too quickly. His fingers are still almost unconsciously moving with the song, he’s played it before, multiple times, when she slumps back onto the couch next to him and takes her bottle back. 

“Do you want to do something together?” he hears himself asking.

“Like, now? Uh-”

“No, on stage, at some point?” And he’s really into the idea suddenly, one leg up on the couch so he can face her better and a familiar warmth of excitement creeps up his neck. “We could find a song to cover, it’ll be fun!” He’s bubbling and Yennefer is staring at him, bottle still raised to her lips and she still hasn’t taken a sip. 

“Possibly, at some point.”

“We could do it at the charity? OH, we could do ‘Something Stupid’, I’ve always wanted to do that one, and-” 

“What the fuck, I’m not singing Sinatra with you.” 

She  _ enunciates  _ the “with you” a little too much for his liking. Jaskier twirls back in his seat, fingers drumming a rhythm on the sticky table and ignoring how annoyed she looks. He wonders if anyone recognizes it.

“How about ‘Close My Eyes Forever’?”

Yennefer can’t quite hide the smirk and he wonders if she doesn’t think he’s up for it. He’s always been more bubblegum pop, ballads, him alone with his guitar, but that isn’t  _ that  _ far off. And it isn’t the only thing he does. Maybe in public it is. He’s up for anything, really, he’s easy. Not like that. Maybe. 

"Maybe."

Geralt later vehemently claims he must’ve lost the score cards, so, even though Sabrina looks very grumpy, there’s not much they can do to find out who won. 


End file.
